


Lines Between Stars

by Fumm95



Series: As Bright As Stars (BoL&S) [1]
Category: Blades of Light and Shadow (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, I HAVE BEEN SO VALIDATED BY THE STAR METAPHORS, Introspection, Late Night Conversations, Pre-Relationship, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fumm95/pseuds/Fumm95
Summary: Ensconced within the Sun Maiden, Csilla and Tyril continue their conversation from earlier in the night.
Relationships: Tyril Starfury/Main Character (Blades of Light and Shadow)
Series: As Bright As Stars (BoL&S) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655983
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Lines Between Stars

**Author's Note:**

> With the most recent chapter, I've officially decided that Tyril has come for my LIFE, so I decided I'll start posting fic here too. Just some light pre-relationship stuff, featuring hints of the backstory I came up with for my elf, Csilla.
> 
> Disclaimer: I’m extrapolating about Tyril’s past because we don’t actually know much so… :P

“Tell me more about Undermount.”

They sat, side-by-side, on the bottom bunk in the _Sun Maiden_ ’s tiny stateroom, staring out into the dark as the ship continued to shudder in the stormy waves. In a show of gallantry, or, if she were to be perfectly honest with herself, since all of her attempts to sleep had already proven to be unsuccessful, she had offered her bunk to Tyril when he returned from assisting with preparing the schloop to weather the storm. Their resulting debate of chivalry ended only when Mal threatened to claim the bed himself to shut them both up, and so there she found herself, half-asleep but clinging to consciousness, with one of the first elves she had ever met sitting beside her, all poise and understated elegance.

Almost too subtle to see, Tyril started, a look of surprise crossing his features. “What do you wish to know?”

She pulled her legs up, hugging them to her chest and resting her chin on her knees. It was a funny thing, fate. Once, she had endless questions about Undermount, as soon as she was old enough to understand why she rarely saw others who looked as she did, why so many visitors to Riverbend looked at her with surprise and curiosity when they noticed her lithe form and pointed ears. But sitting next to an elf from Undermount itself, who would always see the place she knew only from whispered stories as home, who had spoken of it earlier with such nostalgia and longing… Sitting next to Tyril, all of her questions seemed… trite, somehow. Insensitive.

Instead, she turned her head in his direction, observing the way his features shifted with each flash of lightning. “What is your favorite part?”

Whatever he has been expecting, it clearly was not that. In spite of the darkness, his face twitched before smoothing into his usual mask of inscrutability. “That… is a complex question.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I only thought I could learn more about the general facts in my own time, but the specifics, truly living in Undermount must be different than from just what descriptions in books might say…” She shook her head, clamping her mouth shut before it could get her in more trouble. “I’m sorry.”

A quiet huff cut her off before she could spiral into another round of apologies, and her mouth snapped shut of its own accord. It was almost, _almost_ , worth the feeling of foolishness to achieve that tiny crack in the typically stoic facade. “No, it is a good question. Just unexpected.” He paused, long enough that she began to wonder whether he would answer at all. “I suppose… I suppose it is the feeling of… belonging.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mentioned the toast that I should have led earlier tonight.”

“To Lantris, right?”

“Yes, a legendary archer of eld. One of various celebrations we have towards the warriors of long past, those who created the elven civilization, those who fought for its survival, and those who made their last stand in the Great War.” Something resembling sheepishness stole across his face, though it was gone in the next moment. “To be frank, in my mind, it is not so much the honoring but the community, during those moments. Much of the time, Undermount is full of political machinations, everyone vying for alliances and maneuvers to further the position of one’s house. But during these festivals and toasts, the whole of Undermount comes together. Staring out into a sea of faces, all united under one message… It is… humbling.” She glanced over just in time to see a wry smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “And something I thought in my youth was only about honor and societal power. I admit I did not truly appreciate it for what it was until now.”

In the darkness, she nodded. “I guess if you have grown up with memories that have lasted since before the Great War, they must seem like nothing more than just another part of life. You don’t miss it until it’s gone.”

“Your brother?”

His tone was soft, more gentle than she had ever heard from him, but she still couldn’t help but flinch, her voice sharp and tight around the lump in her throat. “Yes.”

“I apologize.”

She shook her head, swallowing hard. “It’s fine. It’s just… He’s been my brother ever since we were taken in by old man Norman. He’s the only family I’ve got left.”

“Then your birth parents…?”

“Bandits. They took out the whole village. Kade and me were all that were left.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It happened a long time ago.” She shrugged, bumping his shoulder lightly. “I barely remember them, to be perfectly honest. It does mean I never got to find out why my mother left Undermount, tho—oh!”

Before he could reply, she leapt off the bed, barely ducking in time before she slammed her head on the upper bunk, and stumbled toward the window. Vaguely, she heard him stifle another laugh, but her attention had been caught by the sliver of light filtering into the room and the delayed realization that the boat had stopped its choppy rocking. Instead, the waters were calm, and she drew a deep breath, craning her head to look upwards at the night sky, now clear of clouds and instead sparkling with thousands of tiny pinpricks of light.

She cast her eyes around, finding the cluster of stars that Tyril had pointed out earlier before turning her attention to others, weighing each before moving on to the next. The souls of worthy elves, he’d said…

Quiet footsteps alerted her to his presence before he spoke from just behind her, head tilted to follow her gaze. “Looking for someone?”

Her exhale was heavy. “My mother. I think… I think she might have died to save me, during the bandit attack. Though I suppose if she left Undermount, then perhaps…”

“What about your father?”

“No, he was human. Or, at least Kade and I think he was when we realized we aged at about the same rate.” She felt as well as heard his faint inhale of surprise, not quite a gasp but close enough, and her lips curled upwards into a grim smile. “So that may be it, then.”

“Perhaps, though there may always be something to discover.” She turned to find him looking upward as well, following her gaze. “There are many more stars in the sky than the eye can see, and more information to be found in Undermount as well. I could try to look into it further, when we retrieve the shard.”

Shaking her head, she smiled. “It’s not so urgent that it should take precedence over finding the shards. The mystery has already waited some twenty odd years. A little longer won’t make much of a difference. But… that would be nice. Thank you.”

“It is nothing. An opportunity to put what remains of my connections to good use.”

At that, she raised an eyebrow, but when he said nothing more, a glint of something darker, troubled, in his gaze, she bumped his shoulder lightly. “A very proper and in no way stuffy response, of course. But seriously. Thank you.”

In the light from the moon, his smile was faint but genuine and, in spite of herself, her heart leapt. “You are quite welcome.”


End file.
